


Delirious in Love

by yourpricelessadvice



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anesthesia, Appendicectomy, Boys In Love, Fluff, Hospitals, Kissing, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Surgery, nothing descriptive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 22:34:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8772043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourpricelessadvice/pseuds/yourpricelessadvice
Summary: Louis is there for Harry waking up from minor surgery; he wouldn't miss it for the world. For two reasons.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I love this idea but read everything I could find that was similar so decided to try my own. I did my best! This is only supposed to be a bit of fun with not too much substance! Please enjoy!
> 
> So, disclaimer: I’m not sure how true to reality this is, and how long you are dopey for after anaesthetic, so it could be that this whole exchange is medically inaccurate from a point of view of the anaesthetic side effects, but bear with me! I have some medical experience but nothing relevant to this story so artistic license applies here!

“Ahhh, there he is! Welcome back, babe!”

Louis leaps from the stiff plastic arm chair where he’d been sitting, one leg crossed over the other, scanning through Instagram aimlessly. The distinct smell of Hospital is burned into his nostrils and is infecting his clothes. Harry, recovering from his appendicectomy, has been asleep for what has felt like hours dragging by, but in reality Louis has only been here for about twenty five minutes.

“How do you feel, love?”

“Hi,” Harry manages eventually, his voice all dry and croaky from the anaesthetic and the apparatus over his face. He stares back at Louis blankly, his eyes not quite focussed.

“Hello love, you feeling all right?” Louis asks again, clearly and slowly. Harry doesn’t answer immediately, still looking almost completely through Louis, like he is trying to come to terms with where he is and what is going on. “Harry?”

Harry moves then, looking around the room and bringing his hands up to his stomach, which must be sore from his surgery. He recoils when he sees the cannula stuck in the back of one of his hands, and then makes a few strange faces as he tries to wake up his muscles.

“It’s a good job you were here when I woke up, doctor.” Harry says eventually, and Louis’ own eyes bug for a second. Hang on… is Harry delirious from the anaesthetic?

“Uh, yes.” Louis decides to roll with this for a second; desperate to see how far they can take it. “It is a good job. Perfect timing, really.”

“Did you do my operation?” Harry asks dreamily. Louis shakes his head with a wistful smile. Harry obviously doesn’t register that, because he smiles broadly. “Thank you so much for taking care of me. You did a great job.”

Louis just smiles, shaking his head softly. “Well that’s quite all right. You making it through this unscathed is the most important thing to me.”

“I love you,” Harry murmurs, his eyes fluttering softly, and he sighs. “Oh, please don’t tell my boyfriend I said that! He might be listening, actually.”

“Oh, I won’t tell him, don’t you worry Mr Styles.”

“He’s only very small,” Harry continues, and Louis almost forgets himself for a moment and squawks in indignation, but he bites his tongue just in time. “He might be hiding under the bed, can you check for me?”

Louis is about to shake his head and refuse, but Harry’s eyes open wide again and they make contact. “Sure,”

After successfully concluding that Harry’s boyfriend _isn’t_ hiding under the bed, Harry settles down again and appears to be seconds away from falling asleep again at any moment, but he rallies round each time.

“I’m sorry for saying I love you,” Harry tells him earnestly, and his eyes shimmer a bit with worry. If it wasn’t so bloody cute Louis would still be laughing. “I think you’re a brilliant doctor but I love my boyfriend.”

“It’s okay, no offence taken. He loves you too.” Quickly he adds, “I should imagine.”

“He should be here soon. I’ll smack him for not being here to see me wake up. I will tell him all about you, though, make him right jealous.”

Louis gives a soft laugh behind his hand. “Oh really?” He then brings his hand down to rest on the bedside. His fingers brush lightly over Harry’s cannula-clad hand, and he doesn’t immediately make any efforts to move his hand. Harry doesn’t either. “I’m sure he will be very jealous and sorry he missed you waking up.”

“He’d better be,” Harry says decisively, rolling his head from side to side once or twice on the pillow. Louis hears his bones crunch and click under his pale skin. Coming to a rest facing Louis, Harry opens his eyes again and continues. “His name is Louis, y’know? I love him from my toes all the way to my eyebrows.”

Louis knows it’s the anaesthetic talking but the thing is, that sounds like something Harry _would_ say, or write in a Valentine’s Day card to him. “I love you too, babe.” He whispers softly to Harry without thinking. He freezes as soon as the words come out, holding his breath for a moment, picturing Harry leaping to life and shrieking for a nurse to come and take away this creepy doctor sitting by his bedside holding his hand and declaring his love.

But Harry doesn’t notice Louis’ Freudian slip, or if he does he doesn’t question it. The silence between them isn’t awkward, but it is quite heavy. Louis kind of wishes Harry would remember him now so he could kiss him and tell him he missed him this morning while he was in surgery.

There is a knock on the door and Louis swivels in his seat, dropping Harry’s hand, to see a nurse peering in through the glass panel smiling. She lets herself in and bustles into the room in that motherly, caring fashion that make patients feel so at ease. Louis guesses, anyway. He’s always thought that way because of his mum. He thinks that everyone would be happy if they had a nurse like his mum looking after them.

“Good afternoon gentlemen!” She greets them breezily. Her tone is a stark contrast to the whispered confessions of love that had just gone down in this room not five minutes ago. “And how are you feeling, patient?”

“Not bad,” Harry answers. “This lovely young doctor who actually did the surgery was just here checking up on me, how nice is that? This hospital is lovely; I’d love to put a good review on Trip Advisor.”

The nurse turns to look at Louis over her shoulder. Louis is in his skinny jeans, trainers and Adidas hoodie, and he smiles embarrassedly. He hopes he can convey what’s going on with Harry with his eyes only, and thankfully she must be used to this sort of thing because she just nods theatrically. “Well, thank you for your hard work, doctor.”

Louis blushes and makes a dismissive noise, feeling his cheeks burning.

“Doctor, can you put it in my notes or on my chart, whatever it is you people have, to remind me to go onto Trip Advisor once I’ve found my phone. Pretty please?”

Louis and the nurse exchange another smile. “Of course I will.” Louis doesn’t make an actual attempt to move but Harry seems unconcerned.

The nurse takes Harry’s obs; blood pressure, temperature, pulse and gives him painkillers and an anti-sickness tablet to take prophylactically. “Mind if I take a quick look at your battle wound?”

Harry hums indifferently with a casual wave of his hand and Louis scoots out of the way so the nurse can get to Harry. She peels back the pale blue cellular blanket and Louis has to look away when she peels back the dressing on Harry’s abdomen. It’s not that he’s particularly squeamish or a wimp or anything, he’d just rather _not_ see it, thank you. He lifts his gaze heavenwards and taps his foot nervously as she goes, listening to her humming and mumbling to herself.

“Couldn’t the handsome doctor be doing this?” He hears Harry ask, and his eyes dart to Harry, who is looking at him bashfully. Oh Christ. “I mean no offence, but he’s more my type.”

Louis can’t help but snort behind his hand, no matter how hard he tries to suppress it. The nurse is very professional and takes it all in her stride though. “I do apologise, Mr Styles.”

“Please, it’s just Harry.” Harry corrects her. “Mr Styles is my dad.”

“Of course,” The nurse finishes writing Harry’s vitals down on his graph and pops the clipboard back on the hook at the end of the bed. “All done! See you again in four hours, Mr- sorry, Harry.”

“Thank you, nurse!” Harry smiles politely, and Louis thinks he might offer her a hand to shake, but he doesn’t.

The nurse catches his eye as she leaves. “Doctor,” She smiles, nodding her head discreetly.

There’s a bit of silence while Harry heaves himself up in the bed. Louis decants some water from the pitcher into the plastic beaker and helps him swallow his tablets. Harry thanks him wordlessly. Harry uses the remote control attached via a wire to his bed to bring the head end up so he is more comfortable. Harry slouches down on one side, obviously still too doped up to feel any pain.

“Talk to me. You’ve got such a lovely voice, like a little fairy.” Harry looks confused. “A boy fairy. I hope you don’t mind me saying that?” He mumbles sleepily. His hand shoots out unconsciously and Louis catches it like an automatic reflex, because that’s what it is. He brings Harry’s arm back down and clasps his cannula-free palm in both of his own and rubs the chilled dry skin with the pads of his thumbs.

“’Course I don’t mind, I’ve been called a lot worse,” Harry’s eyes are closed and he looks content, not quite smiling in his sleep levels of content, but his lips almost look like they could be forming a small smile. Harry won’t remember this in ten minutes or an hour, so he decides to drop the doctor charade. He squeezes Harry’s hand for reassurance and he doesn’t stir. “You’re so beautiful, Harry. Honestly. You’re beautiful inside and out, heart and soul.”

The younger boy hums peacefully in his incoherent state and swallows thickly. “My Lou is beautiful,”

Louis can’t help but blush. “He’ll be so happy to see you once he gets here, I know it.”

“Can you… can y’get ‘im f’ me?” Harry struggles to say. His tongue sounds heavy and lolls in his mouth, then he’s out like a light; his head tipping forward slowly and unconsciously. He pouts heavily in his sleep, something he’s always done that is apparently amplified by the anaesthetic.

Louis lifts out of his chair and feels around for the bed controls, reclining Harry back. As Harry flattens out he burrows his chin into his shoulder and makes another comfortable little noise. Louis marvels at how nice it must be to be in such a deep, dopey sleep. He wishes it was him. Instead, he watches Harry sleep for a few minutes – it could be a few hours though; he gets lost in his boyfriend and time has a habit of speeding up without him knowing.

He keeps half expecting Harry to open one fantastically green eye and say ‘stop watching me sleep you weirdo creeper’ or something, but he doesn’t. Louis watches his breathing even out and Harry breathes so shallowly he can barely see his chest rising and falling, but the soft little noises that escape him confirm that he is indeed just in the land of nod.

Louis disappears out of the room for a minute, letting Harry continue sleeping. Now he’s in the corridor, he’s not too sure what to do with himself. There are chairs lining the walls in groups of three; they look uncomfortable as hell and when he tries one out, yes they’re pretty damn uncomfortable.

Maybe he should go down to the shop on the ground floor and get Harry some chocolate or something? As the anaesthetic wears off he’ll no doubt be feeling rough and chocolate always makes Louis feel better when he’s worse for wear.

“Hiya love, are you all right?” The same nurse from earlier in Harry’s room greets him. He peers up at her and she’s smiling down fondly at him.

“Hi,” He suddenly feels a bit emotional and he has _no_ idea why. “Sorry about him, before. Sayin’ all that stupid stuff.”

“Love, honestly, I’ve heard it all! Some of the stuff can be quite hilarious, though professionally speaking I suppose I’m not meant to say that!” She covers her mouth with her hand and makes a face.

“Will he be back to normal when he wakes up again?”

“He should be love,” The nurse nods, putting her hands into the front pockets of her uniform. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” Louis feels flushed again. “Been together eight years now, friends for eighteen. Childhood sweethearts an’ all that… sorry, overshare Louis, God.”

The nurse laughs. “Ah, that’s so lovely. Best friends as well as in love? That’s so rare these days. My daughter can’t seem to find the one, always getting her poor heart broken. Hold onto that one if he’s special.”

“I will do,”

“Promise me?”

“I promise!” Louis giggles with a sniff.

“Good lad,” She smiles. “Now, I must be on my way. Take care, lovey.”

“Bye,” Louis gives her a small wave. “Thanks for everything.”

-

He scurries down to the shop pronto, not wanting to miss Harry waking up again. Galaxy Caramel was on offer 2 for £1.20 by the till so he shamelessly grabs four (two each) and a bag of sweets that he doesn’t realise are £2.50 just on their own until he’s already handed them over.

Begrudgingly, he pays contactless for the goodies and stuffs them into his pockets to forfeit paying five pence for a carrier bag. He hot foots it back up to the first floor and tries to ignore the burn in the backs of his calves. One of the nurses on the reception buzzes him in and he arrives back at Harry’s room to find his boy still snoozing.

“I’m back, love,” He whispers quietly as he settles back down in the chair next to the bed and pulls out his phone. Harry will kill him when he finds it, but he looks to sweet not too, so he snaps a picture of Harry sleeping and then plays a few games of Candy Crush while he waits.

The early March sun outside the window is just beginning to sink beneath the horizon and the sky turns from a beautiful candyfloss pinky-purpley-peach colour to a deep, rich blue slashed by a bright orange sunshine. The room is getting darker and darker around him, the only light coming through the glass panel in the door, and Louis can feel his own eyelids getting heavy.

Propping his head up in his hand, he slouches down in the chair and snuggles into the corner, promising himself he’ll only close his eyes for a moment. He’d had to have Harry here at the hospital for seven am and they’d been up since half five. It’s now nearly seven pm and although he hasn’t done much himself, it’s been a long day.

He’s got no idea how long he’d been asleep, but the sound and rustling motion of Harry stirring in his bed wakes Louis with a start. The sun has disappeared almost entirely from view now and all he can see is a watercolour smudge of light in an otherwise inky blue sky, illuminating the edges of a few stray purple clouds that float by.

Harry is wriggling around under the covers, trying to shuck off the blanket that the nurse had tucked him so securely into. He looks around a few times, staring up at the ceiling and then over at Louis. He smiles with recognition and then proceeds to make a noise not unlike that of a baby elephant being born. He stretches with his cannula-free arm aloft, his legs wriggling about under the cellular blanket. He squeezes his face until it’s all distorted then relaxes and opens his eyes. They’re a lot clearer than they were the first time around; no greener than they were before and not yet glowing like they usually do, but he looks better this time.

“Hey baby,” Louis says softly into the air, not wanting anything more intrusive than a whisper between them.

“My nose is cold,” Harry rasps, wrinkling it in disgust. “Urgh, my mouth is so dry!”

Louis laughs and hands him the half empty bottle of Evian he’d bought that morning. “Here, drink this. Let’s get you sat up.” He fusses over the bed remote, getting the head end of Harry’s hospital bed into the upright position as Harry battles to get the lid off the bottle. He’s just about to offer to do it for him when Harry finally does it.

“Hey Lou,” Harry says eventually, after finishing off the water and sitting with his hands over his face dramatically for a few moments. “Did I make it out alive or am I in heaven?”

“You made it out alive,” Louis confirms, nodding with a smile.

“Oh good, it’s just I couldn’t tell because wherever you are is heaven to me.” Harry says, completely seriously, and he only breaks his composure when Louis snorts loudly.

“Oh my God, sorry but that was so cheesy, babe!” Louis squawks, almost offended by how corny it was.

“Hey!” Harry pouts indignantly, but he’s laughing too. “Last time I do anything nice for you, _mate_!”

“Oh! _Mate_ is it? _Mates_ , now, are we?” Louis’ eyes bug and he’s laughing hard. “I’m sorry but I don’t think mates kiss each other like this!”

He lunges forward, careful to avoid being _too_ rough, and lifts Harry’s face up with his hands, slipping his fingers into the curls at the base of his neck like he loves to do, and presses their lips together. Hmm, Harry’s nose _is_ quite cold.

He massages the left side of Harry’s jaw with his thumb, just like he knows Harry likes, just right to get Harry to turn to jelly. Right on cue, Harry makes a noise into his mouth and his one hand comes up automatically to Louis’ neck. He drapes his cool fingers across the exposed column and pulls Louis in closer.

“Careful,” Louis has to rein himself in and slow Harry down. He mumbles against Harry’s lips, feeling Harry smile reluctantly against his own. He knows what he was doing was naughty. “You don’t want to overexert yourself.”

“No, I want _you_ to overexert me,” Harry says devilishly, and Louis pulls away, burrowing his forehead into Harry’s temple and sighing.

“You truly are the worst, Styles.”

“You love me,” Harry points out, and Louis can’t argue that.

“Yeah, s’pose so,” He mumbles, wincing in anticipation of Harry thumping him. Harry is still a little dozy, zoning in and out every once in a while, but he seems well and they talk easily. Louis ignores the realisation that they can’t go one day without talking to each other, and that their reunion is like an award winning melodrama.

The lights overhead are stark and give everything a horrible, luminescent hospital-like glow, so Louis gets up, switches it off again and scoots his chair around Harry’s bed to the other side, the side that hasn’t been sliced open. He rests his head gently on Harry’s tummy, throwing one arm over Harry’s thighs and tucking his fingertips under his thigh, and the other arm loosely around his waist. He looks up at Harry who has tilted his head back and looks down at him fondly, sleepily.

“You’ve missed the dinner cart so I bought you some sweets and chocolate, if you fancy it.” He tells Harry lowly. “They’re in my pockets.”

Harry smiles. “Is that what all the rustling was?”

“Of course,” Louis nods, rubbing his cheek against Harry’s blanketed tummy. “I have to go soon, they’re gonna be kicking me out. It’s already past the end of visiting hours.”

Harry pulls a face that while put on a bit is mostly genuine, Louis hopes anyway. Harry lifts his free hand and delicately brushes Louis’ fringe out of his eyes. “Don’t go, I’ve only just got to see you.”

“I’ve been here for a while,” Louis says, knowingly, and Harry looks a bit puzzled. Hastily, he adds, “Not my fault you were sleeping.”

“Not fair,” Harry is _still_ pouting. “I don’t like sleeping without you.”

“Neither do I,” Louis points out. “Our bed at home will be very lonely tonight. It’s too big for just me.”

“I’ll be home tomorrow night, so enjoy the opportunity for starfishing and eating biscuits in bed while you can.”

Harry won’t let him go without another kiss, and Louis finds himself wishing Harry wasn’t just fresh out of surgery because he wants to scramble onto Harry, straddle him and… well. All things _entirely_ too inappropriate for a hospital setting.

Someone knocks on the door and Louis leaps up, but it’s only a warden asking if Harry wants a tea or coffee. They sit in amenable silence whilst the warden makes Harry a tea, and then Louis begins to gather up his stuff. Harry offers him a sip of his tea but he wrinkles his nose in disgust. “No thanks, I’d rather drink dish water.”

“Louis, it’s called Yorkshire tea not dish water.”

“Shut up, you!” He rolls his eyes, keen to defend his precious Yorkshire. “Take that back!”

He hangs around for fifteen minutes or so but Harry is battling to stay awake so he lets him be with a kiss and a promise that he’ll see him tomorrow. He finds Harry’s iPhone in his overnight bag and leaves it for him within reach in the hopes that he’ll get a good night text.

Harry is dead to the world before Louis has even left, still high on the little tiny bit of anaesthetic. He calls Harry’s mum Anne from the corridor to update her, and she tells him at the end of the call that he should go home and get some proper rest so he’s fit for Harry to come home tomorrow. He promises her he will, promises her he will give Harry a kiss from her, and then they hang up.

-

Louis never tells Harry about his funny little episode after he woke up from his anaesthetic. He liked that the moment was just a memory for him to keep and hold onto. He thinks he’ll probably still be smiling fondly to himself at the memory when he’s eighty and neither he nor Harry can get up out of their armchairs without assistance, a lot of grunting and shortness of breath.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Tumblr: mummyamy10


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